


family

by beespiesandplaid



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 10:58:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7168298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beespiesandplaid/pseuds/beespiesandplaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam contemplates how his understanding of the words family has changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	family

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to imhomosuperior on tumblr for this excellent prompt. :)

Adam had always known the dictionary definition of the word family, of course. _A group consisting of two parents and their children living together as a unit._

The Parrishes just about met that definition on paper. So Adam ticked that box and assumed family meant nothing more than blood.

He was wrong.

He’s twenty eight now, a college graduate with a job he actually likes – three months ago he started working as a medical social worker. He spends his hours split between the Barns and Henrietta’s hospital.

He won’t let any kids like him slip through the cracks.

Opal is turning eighteen, and Blue and Gansey are at the Barns, their four year old daughter causing chaos by chasing Chainsaw and the cats. She looks like Gansey, but she acts like Blue. Adam doesn’t envy them when she reaches her teenage years.

Henry is here with his dog. No children yet, although he spends enough time with Blue and Gansey that he’s essentially a third parent to Glen. (Blue managed to convince Gansey that Glendower was not, under any circumstance, a good name for a baby girl. So their only daughter was named “Glen Persephone Campbell Gansey-Sargent I.)

Ronan is sat on the sofa beside him, fidgeting and pretending he isn’t emotional over the fact that Opal is now a grown up. He’d dreamt her a pair of tights, several years ago now, that disguised her odd legs, and she’d graduated High school last month.

Adam may have cried, a little. They’d home schooled her through elementary and middle school, and Adam was ridiculously proud of her for venturing outside the world of the Barns. She was taking a gap year before deciding what to do next, though Adam suspected she was going to go and work with Henry. She liked to make things, and Henry had a lot of money available for making things.

Chainsaw lands on his shoulder, burying her head in his neck, hiding from the wrath of Glen. Adam was incredibly glad that Chainsaw appeared to be an immortal bird. She was as much a part of this little unit as any of the humans.

Declan and Mathew were arriving later, as were Maura and the Grey man.

Smiling, he leans his head against Ronan. Ronan takes his hand.

“She’s amazing, isn’t she? Our daughter?” he says. Adam grins. They don’t quite remember when Opal went from being an adopted dream to _theirs_ but she had, and her smile is proof every day that Adam is not his father.

“The best,” Adam murmurs, turning to kiss Ronan’s jaw. His feelings haven’t shrunk in ten years. They have only grown. Now, when he looks at Ronan, he feels sparks and safety, past and present and future, a sense of calm belonging, and a happiness that threatens to overwhelm.

“I love you,” Ronan says, catching his eye. No one is watching them. If they were, it wouldn’t matter.

“I know,” Adam smiles, because he does. Ronan tells him this every morning, every afternoon, every night. Ten years have changed Ronan from an angry teen to a loving father, husband, and friend. Even brother. He and Declan don’t fight so much these days, unless it’s about Mathew, who never lost his innocence and still needs a helping hand now and again.

“Come with me to feed the cows?” Ronan asks, and Adam stands. Opal is holding Glen, laughing and pulling faces at her. Glen is squirming, trying to escape. Henry, Blue and Gansey are squished onto the other sofa, earnestly discussing something that Adam doesn’t want to try and understand. (Conversation topics of the last week have included the importance of gender neutral clothing for babies, whether or not bees are sentient beings (Blue says no, Henry says yes, the bees are his friends, Gansey says yes, the bees are awake and evil.) and the likelihood of a zombie apocalypse breaking out in Nino’s (Their chip pan is filthy enough to become an organism all of its own, that’s all I’m saying.) (The last bit was Blue.)

They leave the living room. Adam slips his feet into the boots that wait for him beside the door. Ronan does the same. The yard is muddy at the moment. It’s a rainy summer. They slide into the warmth of the barn, musty with the smell of cow feed and hay. The cows are in the field, awake at last. Ronan heads to grab a sack of feed, but Adam stops him with a hand, pulling him close.

Ronan stops, turns, hands finding Adam’s waist without question.

“Parrish,” he murmurs, smiling. The name is nostalgia.

“How has it been ten years,” Adam asks. “She’s… we raised a child Ronan. Like, we did a decent job of it as well. How did we do that?”

Ronan shrugs. “We had help. Takes a family to raise a child, Adam. Opal had a big one.”

Adam smiles at the word, wondering. The dictionary definition has shifted by now. It is not two parents raising their child and living as a unit. No.

It is five mixed up teens and cautious kisses, a dream creature who eats sticks and laughs non-stop. It is the memory of a ghost who saved them and knew them better than they knew themselves. It’s an ex hit man and a handful of psychics, too many cats and too many dreams. It’s burnt food and figuring out how to live with each other, and it is maths books and five years of skype calls from college, joyful reunions and tearful goodbyes. It is years of shared adventure, tangling them closer and closer until they are inseparable, a single entity. A family.

Adam kisses Ronan, sinking into the familiarity of it. Ten years has been enough for him to learn every curve of his lips. But it’s not been long enough for him to grow tired of it.

He closes his eyes, shuts them tight. He feels like he may cry if he does anything other than kiss Ronan right now. Ronan’s hands are splayed across his back, warm and solid.

Family, Adam thinks, swallowing down the last memories of that trailer, the grubby lino and the curses, and replacing them with his new understanding of the word, a vague, joyous thing, not tangible enough to define, but tangible enough to feel. His family.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, let me know :) feel free to prompt me over on tumblr (I'm morewordsthantime.tumblr.com)


End file.
